


Confession

by Lestrade_DI



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Just to be sure, Pastor/John, Religious Content, Teen Sherlock, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lestrade_DI/pseuds/Lestrade_DI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It was a quiet evening. The rain was ticking against the big windows as John was cleaning up. He placed the books back in place and picked up any litter that people left behind. It’s weird how there are still people who leave scraps of paper behind in a church. John turned when he heard the door open. A boy with a black hoody, hood pulled over his head and black curls stick out underneath it walked in. The boy looked around till his eyes fell on John. He pulled off his hood and walked up to him. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Confession.

**Author's Note:**

> I just like to mention that i am not religious! I've never confessed before in my life and i barely went to church. I got all the information from the internet so if anything is wrong then i am sorry!

It was a quiet evening. The rain was ticking against the big windows as John was cleaning up. He placed the books back in place and picked up any litter that people had left behind. It’s weird how there are still people who leave scraps of paper and candy wrappers behind in a church. John turned around when he heard the door open. A boy in a black hoody, hood pulled over his head and black curls sticking out underneath it walked in. The boy looked around till his eyes fell on John. He pulled off his hood and walked up to him. 

John prepared himself for whatever the boy will do or say. He knew he shouldn’t think like this but you could never be careful enough. Especially not in the middle of London on a rainy evening.

The boy stopped in front of John and suddenly he didn’t look so shady anymore. He looked unsure, scared. He also wasn’t as young as he thought he was. Perhaps 17 or 18. Not much younger then himself. John put up a smile.

“Can I help you with anything?”

The boy nodded slowly. “I… uhm… I'd like to confess some things.” His blue eyes looked away from john, as if ashamed. John kept up his smile. “Right this way.” John said and guided the boy towards a confessional. John got in on one side and the boy the other. When John sat down he patiently waited for boy to start talking. When the kid didn’t John looked at the screen. He could see the faint silhouette of the boy. “Are you okay my child?” he asked carefully and he could see movement. He also faced the screen. 

“I’m sorry, I never did this before.” The boy said in a soft voice. John smiled again, even though the kid could not see him. “That’s okay” he said “Want me to guide you through it?” 

The boy nodded before he realised John could not see him and he softly said “Yes please.”

“Well,” John started. “You usually start with ‘Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been [time period] since my last confession.’ Then you’ll tell me what is troubling you. When you’re done you say ‘For these sins and all those that I cannot remember, I humbly repent and ask for absolution, counsel, and penance.’” John waits a couple of seconds before asking. “Did you get that?” The boy simply answered with ‘yes’ and John could hear him take a deep breath.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have never confessed in my life. To be honest with you Father, I am not here for myself.”

“Then who for?” John asks, actually getting curious.

He could hear the boy hesitate before he said. “For my father. He… he has hurt the people around him.”

“How do you mean hurt?”

It was quiet for a while but the boy continued. “He has beaten people Father. Gave them physical and mental bruises.”

John gulped and asked. “Did he beat you…?”.

“He did.” The boy said. “Not long ago.”

“Who else did he hurt?” John asks carefully, not sure how many more questions he can ask the boy.

“My mother and brother. My brother left home and my mother pasted away last year. Father said she passed away in her sleep but I think there’s more to it.”

John bit his bottom lip. This boy’s live was not easy. Not at all. No one deservers a life like this. Especially not a child. “I’m sorry for your loss.” John said first. “But why do you think so? How else do you think she might have passed away?” 

John could hear the boy’s breath getting shaky. Perhaps he was crying? But the voice in which he spoke didn’t change. “She had new bruises around her neck. She didn’t have them the night before. She and father did have a fight before I went to bed.”

“Are you suggesting that your father killed her?”

The boy stayed quiet. John softly sighed and wanted to speak up again. But the boy spoke first. “For these sins and all those that I cannot remember, I humbly repent and ask for absolution, counsel, and penance.”

John wanted to ask more questions but instead he just said “I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father and of Son and of the Holy Spirit.” The boy waited a couple of seconds before exiting the confessional. John followed short after and watched as the boy made his way to the door. 

“May I ask something?” John asked loudly enough so the boy would turn. “What’s your name?” 

The boy gave a small smile. “It’s Sherlock.” He answered. With that he turned around and walked out of the church.


	2. A Gift

The next few days went by quiet. John hasn’t seen Sherlock for a while and he started to get a bit worried. It was a rainy evening just like the last one when the door opens slowly. John turns around and sighs in relief when he see the black hoody with dark curls sticking out underneath it. Sherlock took off his hood and looked around till his eyes fell on John again and he walked over to him.

“Here to confess again?” John asks with a smile and the boy nods. John walks over too the confessional while Sherlock follows. 

“Is it for yourself this time?”

“No” Sherlock replied softly. They both sit down in the confessional.

“Bless me Father, for i have sinned. It has been 5 days since my last confession.“ Sherlock begins. John leans back and listens to the boy’s smooth voice. Even though the situation the boy is in, he sounds surprisingly calm. When he’s done John gets himself back together. There fell a short silence before Sherlock continued talking.

“I am, once again, not here for myself Farther. I am here for my father. He has not yet stopped hurting the people around him.”

John sat upright. “Has he hurt you?” He asks the boy carefully.

Again there was a silence before Sherlock spoke. “He has Father. Just yesterday…”

John gulps. “Does it hurts…?” stupid question. Of course it must hurt. The boy wouldn’t come here if his dad pinched his cheek. 

“A bit. But i manage Father.” 

“How old are you? Can you not move out of the house? There are some places you could stay that are better then with your father.” John says and he can hear Sherlock shift in his seat.

“I don’t want to run away from him Father.” He replies. “I want to help him. Save him from the hand that is hurting me and others. If i run away now he might never stop.” 

John sighs. What the boy says is true. He can go and save himself from the pain but that could mean others would get hurt in his place. 

Sherlock continues “Is there a way that i, or we, can help him Father?”

John sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was quite a big problem. He wants to help Sherlock but there is not much he can do. He can pray with the boy and give him advice. But John would not know what kind of advice to give in a situation like this. The boy truly wants to help his father but John’s not sure how much can be done about it. He has seen it before. People who hurt other on a regular basis start to fall in a habit. They will use violence way quicker then talking it out, because they’re used to it. 

“Father...?” Sherlock asks quietly and John just noticed he’s been quiet for a long time. Thinking about it has caught him off guard. John cleared his throat.

“Yes sorry. What do you say if we finish this and then both pray for your father hm?” He asks. “Maybe god can help him.” He could see Sherlock nod through the screen and he says “I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father and of Son and of the Holy Spirit."

Then he presses his hands together. John did the same and he closed his eyes. In his mind he asked god not to only help Sherlock’s father, but also Sherlock himself. Because this is a life no child of god should ever live. When he was done he softly said ‘amen’ and waited for Sherlock to finish. When the boy was done they both got out.

“Thank you Father.” Sherlock says and he was already making his way towards the door. 

“Wait!” John says, making Sherlock stop in his tracks and turn around. “I got something for you.” He walks up to him and takes of his necklace, holding it up in front of Sherlock. A blinking, gold cross was dangling on a metallic looking cord. Sherlock held up his hand and looked at the cross as John dropped it in his hand. 

“I… I can’t accept this Father.” He says while holding it out to John. But John just closes Sherlock’s hand.

“Keep it. It’s yours now. May it protect you as much as it protected me.” John says with a smile and Sherlock gave him a small smile back before putting the necklace in his pocket.

“Thank you Father. I’ll keep it save.” With that Sherlock turns around and walks out of the church. John sighs in relief. Hoping the necklace would indeed help Sherlock as much as it helped him.


	3. Bruises and Cuts

A couple of days went by. Then a week. 2 weeks. John figured Sherlock’s situation must’ve improved. Otherwise he would have come by earlier. He finished up everything inside the church and went out to lockup. When he turned around Sherlock was standing behind him. The same old black hoody with the hood covering most of his face. John noticed the gold cross dangling proudly around his neck and he smiled.

“Sherlock, havent seen you in a long time.”

The boy looked up so John could see his face. His right eye was swollen and a faint purple color was forming around it. There was also blood coming from a cut in his bottom lip. John’s breath was stuck in his throat as he was looking for some words. Eventually he turned around, openend the door and stepped aside. Sherlock walks in slowly. John followed him in and closed the door behind him. He walked to the back of the church, where the kitchen was and all the supplies are being kept. Sherlock quietly follows him. John could hear the sound of his sneakers against the wooden floor. There wasn’t the usual steady rhythm he always had. Sherlock was stumbling. As if having trouble keeping himself up.

Once they were in the kitchen John sat Sherlock down and grabbed a towel, putting some ice cubes from the freezer in it, before handing it over to the boy. Sherlock pulled off his hood and put the ice carefully against his eye.

“Thanks…” He whispered in a soft and hoarse voice. John took a look at the boy’s bottom lip and grabs a clean rag from underneath the countertop, making it damp before kneeling in front of Sherlock. He looks down at John with one blue eye that looked really empty to John. No emotions, no sign of pain nor sadness. John carefully pressed the rag against Sherlock’s lip and Sherlock pulled back, hissing in pain, before leaning forward to John again. John repeated the action and this time Sherlock didn’t back away. He closed his other eye and tensed while John cleaned the wound. Once John was sure the wound was clean he got up, washing the rag. He could hear Sherlock place the ice on the table and he turned around. Sherlock was playing with the edge of his sleeves, not looking up at John once. John sighed, grabbed a chair and placed it in front of Sherlock, sitting down. He grabbed the boy’s chin, gently pulling his head up to face him.

“Did this happen today?” He asks, investigating the blue eye that starts to get darker and darker. Sherlock looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. He lets his tongue slide over the cut once but quickly pulls it back in. 

“Less than an hour ago.” Sherlock says. “Dad has been drinking again.” John let go of his chin and Sherlock’s head automatically goes down again. John pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking of a solution for the boy. Then he sighs and looks up. 

“If you wan’t you can sleep here for now.” Now it was Sherlock’s turn to look up. John continued, “You can sleep in the church. It’ll keep you save. I will stay here as well.” 

Sherlock looked surprised. “You don’t have to go through that trouble for me Fathe-“

“John.” John interrupted him. “You can call me John if you like.”

Sherlock looked away once again. “I can’t accept an offer like that. You should go home. To your family.”

“I don’t have a family to go home to.” John said. His voice blanc. Sherlock looks up shocked. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know…” 

John smiled, placing a hand on Sherlocks shoulder. “It’s okay. There was no way for you to know that.” John lets go and stands up. “We can sleep on the couches in the backroom. It’s not the most comfortable place to sleep but you’ll be save there.” He walks over to the closet, grabbing some blankets, before turning to Sherlock who also got up. They made their way to the backroom. It was a small room with 2 couches, a table, fireplace and a dresser underneath the window with a big wooden cross on top of it. John divides the blankets between the 2 couches and walks over to the fireplace. Sherlock sits down on one of the couches. He kicks off his shoes and places the towel with ice, which he took with him from the kitchen, against his eye once more. It stung but he kept it there. He looked over at John who was starting a fire. Sherlock then got up, walked over to him and sat down on the ground next to John. John looked at him surprised and Sherlock just responds with “I’m cold.” 

John smiles and puts another piece of wood on the fire. He then also sits down, looking into the fire. He can see Sherlock shift beside him, turning the ice in the towel, placing it against his eye, turning it again and again to find something thats comfortable for him.

“How does it feel?” John asks, keeping his gaze fixed on the flames. Sherlock turn the ice once more before putting it down on the ground. “It stings.” he says with a sigh.

“It will continue to sting for a while. Black eyes take some time to heal.” John could see Sherlock turn his head to him in the corner of his eye.

“You know quite a lot about this. Do you have a medical history?” he asks and John also faces him. “I studied to be a doctor when i was younger.” 

Sherlock looked surprised. “Why didn’t you become a doctor then? It must pay a lot better than this.”

“First of all, it’s not about the money.” John says. “After my study i went to Afghanistan. I spend 2 years there and when i came back i decided this was what i had to do.” 

Sherlock turned his head to a side. “Why did you come back? Did something happen?” 

John nods. “I got shot. In the shoulder.” he says as he grabs his left shoulder. Sherlock observes John as he let his hand slide down back in his lap. Then the boy once again licks his lips, letting his tongue carefully slide over the wound. “Can i see…?” he asks and John looks confused. Why would he want to see it? Did he find it that interesting? Or was it just to keep the conversation rolling? Keep himself distracted. “Sure.” John mumbled and he took of his clerical collar before starting to unbutton his shirt. Sherlock watched him as he undid one button after the other. Something about the boy’s gaze gave John a shiver down his spine. When he was done he pulled the left side of his shirt away to show the round scar that was placed on his shoulder. Sherlock looked at it with great interest. John looked away but his head quickly turned back when he felt something against his shoulder. Sherlock was leaning forward and touching the scar. John jerked away, quickly buttoning his shirt back up. Sherlock pulled back as well.

“I’m sorry…” He said and before John could say anything back to him Sherlock got up and walked over to the couch. John looked at him as he sat down, pulling the blankets over his legs. Then sherlock pulled his hoody over his head. Under it he was wearing a black thank top. John could see bruises and a faint hint of scars on the boy’s arms and back. He shivers at the thought of what could cause such injuries. Sherlock pulled the blanket further up, apparently still cold. John threw some more pieces of wood on the fire before making his way to the couch as well. he took off his shoes and also pulled the blanket over himself. Sherlock looked at him and when John met his eyes he didn’t look away.

“You really don’t have to stay you know.” Sherlock says. John smiles at him. “It’s okay, really. by the way, i like to have some company as well every now and then.” Sherlock gave him a small smile in return before laying down on his back, arms above the blanket while he stares at the ceiling. John did the same but he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he let his body relax. The couch was way more comfortable then he thought it would be.

“John?” 

John turns his head to the side and looks over at Sherlock. “Yea?” He saw that Sherlock has grabbed his necklace, holding the cross tightly in his palm.

“Will i really be save here?” He looks at John from the corner of his eyes. John once again gave him a smile. “This is the house of god Sherlock. Of course you’ll be safe here. I promise.” Sherlock also turned his head to face John. “Now go sleep okay.” Sherlock nodded and turned around, with his back to John. John turned his gaze back to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“Goodnight John.” Sherlock said softly.

“Goodnight Sherlock.” John replied, smiling before he fell in a deep sleep.


	4. A Day Together

John slowly opened his eyes. The sun was shinning directly in his face and he had to blink a few times before he could see anything. He looked over to where Sherlock was sleeping and smiled. The boy looks so peaceful. The blue eye, which is now slowly turning into a darker color, looks just straight out wrong on Sherlock’s pale face. The cut seems to heal nicely though. John got up slowly, groaning when his shoulder was protesting with painful stings. He wanted to walk to the kitchen when he heard movement behind him. He turned around to find Sherlock looking at him with sleepy eyes.

“Morning.” John said with a smile. Sherlock just groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. He giggled. “Tea?” He asks and he could hear a faint ‘please’ from underneath the blanket. 

When John came back, with two cups of hot tea, Sherlock was sitting. The blanket still wrapped around him. John handed him a cup and Sherlock wrapped two hands around it, holding it close to his face.

“How are you feeling?” John asks as he sat down. Sherlock took a careful sip of his tea before deciding it was still too hot and rested it on his knees. Then he just shrugged. 

“What am i supposed to feel in a situation like this.” His eyes moved up to meet John’s. John looked away and shifted in his seat. It was quiet except for the soft sound of sherlock blowing in his mug to cool down his tea and then again carefully sipping it. John sighed, causing Sherlock to get his eyes off his tea and back at him.

“You can help me if you want.” John says. Sherlock turned once again his head to the side. Just like yesterday. He kind of looked like a puppy. John couldn’t help but giggle and Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Clearly not aware of what is so funny.

John clears his throat and continues. “You can help me in the church. Making things ready for the first people who come in.” 

Sherlock seemed to think about it for a while and then nodded. “I think i can do that yea.” He said as he continued to drink his tea.

“Great.” John looks at his watch. “Well we should get ready. The door opens in 20 minutes.” He got up, straightened his clothes and grabbed his clerical collar, putting it on. Sherlock had put down his tea and reached out for his hoody.

“Oh those clothes won’t do.” John says. “Wait i think we got some spare shirts in the back. I’ll get you one.” With that he walked off. When he came back Sherlock was still sitting in the same spot. He had finished his tea and put his sneakers on John noticed. He also folded the blanket and placed it neatly on the end of the couch.

“I had to guess your size but i think this will fit you.” He hands Sherlock a black shirt with dark grey buttons. Sherlock pulled his top over his head, revealing even more bruises, and John can’t get his eyes off him. Underneath the bruises he can make out some scars. They seem to be old but they’re still visible. Sherlock put on the shirt. It seems a bit tight, the fabric being like a second skin.

“Shall i get you a bigger one?” John asks, still looking at him. Sherlock shakes his head. “No this one is fine.” He grabs his hoody and placed it on top of the blanket. 

“Ready?” John asks and Sherlock nods. They made their way to the main room. John opened the big closet that was standing all the way in the back, grabbing a pile of books from it and handing them over to Sherlock. “Could you place these in the back of the benches?” Sherlock nods and walks over to the benches. John follows him with his eyes for a while before grabbing a pile of books himself and also walking over there.

After everything was done and John had opened the door, the first people start to walk in. Sherlock had taken place on a bench all the way to the side, observing the people who came in and out. When it was almost noon Johns stomach began to rumble. He walks over to Sherlock.

“Hungry?” He asks and the boy nods. “Want to grab something to eat? I know a good sandwich shop and it’s just around the corner.” John says and Sherlock looks down.

“I don’t got any money on me.” He says in a quiet voice. John places a hand on Sherlocks shoulder and smiles. “Don’t worry about that, it’s my treat.” Sherlock looks up and then slowly starts to smile. “Thank you.” He says and follows John out of the church.


	5. Broken Promise

The day went by quietly. John actually likes having Sherlock around. Sherlock was very mature for his age and he seems to be very observant. John could just point at a person and Sherlock would tell him what he knew about them by just looking. If they were married, had an affair, had kids, what kind of job they most likely would have, etc, etc. Sherlock was also very polite. Always speaking with Sir or Ma’am. Always saying thank you, Good day and Good bye.

It was almost time for the church to close up and Sherlock was sitting on the second row, reading the book that was placed there. John was talking with some tourist who had come to visit London and wanted to know more about this church. Everything was nice and quiet till the front door flew open. Everyone turned around and looked at the tall man that was standing there. He looked angry. The man scanned the room till his eyes fell on Sherlock and he walked up to him. Sherlock, who had got to his feet, dropped the book and looked absolutely terrified. 

John didn’t hesitate and stepped between the man and Sherlock before they could get into contact with one other. He looked the man over before he spoke.

“Can i help you sir?” he asked politely and the man looked even more pissed now.

“I want my son back!” He almost yelled and John could smell the alcohol in his breath. The man was drunk, or at least close to. 

John kept his voice calm but all his muscles were tensed as he spoke. “We don’t ‘have’ your son sir. He’s here because he want’s to be.” John could see the mans eyes switch to Sherlock and then back to him.

“That’s bullshit! My son is not a bloody church boy!”

John sighed. “Sir i have to ask to not use such language here. Or i have to ask you to leave the building.”

Then the man grabbed John’s shoulder, pushing him aside. But John didn’t move. He placed his hand on the mans wrist and held on so tightly that the man let him go instantly. But he didn't gave up. The man stepped closer to him but despite the distant between them he didn’t lower his voice.

“You listen to me! I don’t know what kind of fucked up ritual you have done to my son to make him like this, but i’m his father and he’s coming with me! If you like it or not!” Then the man released himself, shove John aside and grabbed Sherlock by his upper arm, dragging him along towards the exit. Sherlock was protesting, trying to free himself from his fathers grip but with no luck. John just stood there. Not interfering, not walking after them. Because that man would only know one way. Violence. And John didn’t fight. Not anymore.

Sherlock was yelling to his dad to let him go. His father turned to face him, grabbed the necklace and ripped it from Sherlocks neck, Throwing it on the ground before picking Sherlock up around his waist and throwing him over his shoulder. Sherlock started to hit his fathers back with everything he got but no luck. He looked up at John with tears in his eyes and said:

“You promised i would be safe…”

With that they went outside and John was left there. Standing alone and looking at the door.


	6. Forgiveness

John couldn’t sleep. He barely ate. He didn’t talk with many people but from a few other pastors. All he could think about was Sherlock. If Sherlock was alright. If he was still home with his father. Did his father beat him again? Was Sherlock in pain? Or did he finally run away somewhere safe, as John had suggested. Even if he did he wouldn’t come back here again. John had promised him something and that promise has been broken. John felt so bad for not helping him. For not stopping his father. Maybe if he did Sherlock would still be here. 

John started to feel unwell and he excused himself, walking to the backroom. He splashed some water in his face and leaned on the countertop. He felt a wave of sickness going through his body and he took deep breaths. The door behind him opened. 

“There is someone who wants you to do their confession.” One of the pastors says to John.

“Could you do it? I’m feeling a bit unwell right now.” John kept starring at the sink as he heard the pastor walk inside.

“He asked for you. I already suggested if someone else could do it but he declined saying he only wanted you.”

John turned around. “What’s his name?” He asks. Having a faint feeling that he may know who that someone could be. The pastor shrugged. “He didn’t say his name. It’s a young boy though.” With that John walked past the pastor, out of the room. When he walked into the main room he stopped. There was a familiar figure sitting on the front row bench. Black hoody, black curls and a pale skin. John got himself together and walked over to him. When Sherlock noticed him he got up, facing John.

“Hey…” John said a bit awkwardly. Sherlock’s blue eye was gone and the split in his lip had turned into a faint scar. John couldn’t find any other marks. At least not on the skin that was visible for his eyes. 

“I would like to confess.” Sherlock said without a sign of emotion in his voice. John would rather take the boy somewhere private. Talk about what happened and how stupid it was that he didn’t do anything. But he just walked with Sherlock towards the confessional. They both sat down and it was quiet again. John had gotten used to it.

“Bless me Father, for i have sinned. It has been 7 weeks since my last confession.“ Sherlock started. There was once again a silence before he continued. “This time i’m here for myself Father. I have done something… Something horrible.” His voice became softer and softer. Almost as if he didn’t want John to hear him. And John wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear. He felt a heavy feeling in his stomach as if he has swallowed a giant stone. 

He took a deep breath and asked: “What have you done?” There was movement on the other side of the screen. Sherlock was shifting in his seat.

“I… Uhm…” His voice was so soft that John had to concentrate on listening. “I have taken a life Father…” Johns breath was stuck in his throat. The heavy feeling in his stomach became worse and his throat was dry. He tried to swallow but it was as if his throat was locked up. He could hear Sherlocks breath getting shaky. John sat upright, taking a deep breath before asking “What happened?”

He could see Sherlock wipe his face with his sleeve. Was he crying? John couldn’t imagine the boy crying. He always seemed to have his emotions under control. He patiently waited for Sherlock to get himself back together. The boy took a deep, shaky breath.

“My father… i… I have taken his life. I didn’t intend to do it! It… It just all happened so quickly.” There was a small pause but John patiently waiting for Sherlock to finish. “He tried to hurt me again… He had grabbed my throat and before i knew what i was doing i had put a knife in his chest.” Again the boy wiped his face with his sleeve. There was a soft sob before John got out of the confessional. He opened Sherlock door and the boy looked up in surprise, tears in his eyes. Before Sherlock could say anything John had kneeled before him and pulled him down for a hug. Sherlock didn’t know how to respond at first but then hugged back, hiding his face in Johns shoulder. He slowly started to cry and John held him tightly. 

“I’m so sorry…” Sherlock whispered in between the sobs. John started to stroke his hear. He could feel the eyes of the other people burn in his back but he didn’t care. All he cared about right now was Sherlock. 

“It’s okay.” He whispered back into his ear. “It was self defense. It could’ve been you instead of him. I forgive you.”

He could feel Sherlock holding on even tighter. “But what about him…? Will God forgive me?” Sherlock pulled away to look at John. His cheeks were red and damp from his tears and his eyes were slightly swollen and puffy. John cupped Sherlock face with one hand, wiping away a tear with his thumb. 

“We will ask for his forgiveness together. If you’re okay with that of course.” John says and he gave Sherlock a gentle smile. Sherlock nodded. “Yes please.” He whispered. Then John got them up from the ground and walked to the backroom with Sherlock, ignoring all the people who were looking at them. He had put an arm around the boy, holding him close as if scared he would lose him again. In the back he sat Sherlock down on the couch, giving him a glass water and calmed him down. 

“I think i have to go too the police…” Sherlock eventually said and John nodded. “That might be a good idea yea.”

Sherlock hold onto his cup of water tightly and looked up at John. “Could you come with me?” He asks carefully and John gave him a smile again. “Of course. I’ll be here for you.” Sherlock smiled back and a warm feeling began to form in Johns stomach. It felt good to see the boy smile again.

Sherlock placed down the cup and got up. “Oh one more thing before we go.” John said suddenly and Sherlock looked at him curious. John walked over to the dresser underneath the window and grabbed a glistering necklace that was hanging on one side of the cross. He walked back to Sherlock and handed it over to him. 

“You left this.”

Sherlock smiled and put it on. He looked down at it before looking at John with an even bigger smile on his face. 

“Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was it! I'm pretty happy with how it turned out :D I hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing it!


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